


No More Gold Lights

by Amberly



Series: You Set My Soul Alight [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:45:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/pseuds/Amberly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Leave him,” Duo's voice was soft, drifting through the sweat-stained air like smoke. He trailed his fingers over Trowa's stomach, stroking the skin with his nails. Trowa growled, sitting up, and glaring at him, eyes dark. Duo met his gaze, unwavering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 “Leave him,” Duo's voice was soft, drifting through the sweat-stained air like smoke. He trailed his fingers over Trowa's stomach, stroking the skin with his nails. Trowa growled, sitting up, and glaring at him, eyes dark. Duo met his gaze, unwavering. 

“No,” he ground out. It always came back to this. Trowa winced. There shouldn't be an “always”. He shouldn't be lying in bed with his best friend, covered in come and scratch marks. He looked at Duo, shivering slightly. His lover was beautiful, hair spread out over the pillow, tangled slightly,his body marked by his teeth and nails, violet eyes drowsy, and half-lidded, watching him. 

“He doesn't make you happy,” The voice was low, husky. Hoarse. Duo screamed when they fucked, head thrown back, those hot eyes watching him. Trowa shivered again, leaning in, sliding his tongue over the damp column of his throat. Duo was right. He wasn't happy with Quatre, no matter how much he loved him. But love was important, and Trowa didn't love Duo. 

“I love him,” he whispered against Duo's throat, biting down softly. Duo moaned, arching in to his mouth, eyes falling shut. They both heard the rest of the sentence, the “not you” echoing through the silence. 

Sliding his hands in to Trowa's hair, Duo pulled him up, pressing their mouths together, tongue teasing over his lower lip. With a low moan, he hooked his leg over his hip, grinding hard upward. They met like this once a month. Trowa was frenzied, pinning Duo to the wall of his apartment, devouring his mouth and ripping at his clothing. It was only later, after they had both taken their fill, using each other to vent their darkness, that Duo brought it up. They'd been doing this for a year. Trowa bit down on his chest, making Duo moan and arch, nails digging in to his scalp. A year, and Quatre had no idea. Still wanted candlelight and roses, wanted making love and soft looks, the public's approval. To be a good, normal person. The golden boy. 

“He'll hurt you,” Duo gasped, bucking in to the hot mouth surrounding his cock. It was always like this, the need. They both gave as good as they got, the release peace had taken away from them replaced. Duo threw his leg over Trowa's shoulder, crying out as a well-lubed finger slid in to him, a tongue running over the head of his cock. They could only get this from each other. The violence, the release: pent up energy shattering with the force of their orgasms. Trowa swallowed him, finger curling over his prostate, and Duo screamed, arching and throwing his head back, coming hard. Swallowing, Trowa sighed, resting his forehead on his hip, stroking his thigh.

“I'm not leaving him. And we have to stop,” Trowa turned his face, pressing it against Duo's thigh. It was only supposed to happen once. They had been drunk, and the months of holding back had overwhelmed him. Trowa had broken, spilling his wants and desires, and Duo had smiled. Taken his hand, pulling him down against him, and whispered “use me” against his lips. And Trowa had been lost. 

Duo closed his eyes, hands stilling in his hair. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Trowa was. Trowa had been his brother. His best friend. Had held him up, when Heero and Relena had announced their wedding. When Hilde had walked out after discovering he was gay...and now they couldn't stop, and the eyes in Duo's dreams had gone from blue to green.

“I can't watch you destroy yourself,” he whispered, clenching his eyes shut, hands tightening in Trowa's hair. As if keeping them shut would block out what he knew would happen. The head on his thigh nodded. Trowa sat up, lying next to him and kissing him gently, brushing back his bangs. 

“I know,” he whispered, giving him a small smile. Duo opened his eyes, taking in his face. Storing his expression. Trowa kissed him again, cupping his cheek, then slid away. He shivered in the sudden chill, turning on his side, watching his lover dress. 

“Trowa,” Duo sat up, hair falling around his shoulders. Pants around his thighs, Trowa paused, turning to look at him. Smiling, he pulled them up the rest of the way up, buttoning them. Crossing the room, he placed a kiss on Duo's nose. 

“I know,” he smiled, kissing his nose again, a hand sliding through his unbound hair. Duo managed a weak smile, then faltered, looking down. Trowa knew how he felt. Always had. Running a hand up his arm, Trowa cupped his cheek, kissing him, lips clinging then pulling away. Tugging slightly on his hair, Trowa stood. Turned. Left the room. 

He never came back. 


	2. Chapter 2

The room he was shown in to was simple, small, and Duo let out a sigh of relief. He'd been afraid Relena would insist on giving him one of the fancier suites, since he was being named as Godfather. One of the Godfathers. He'd have to thank Heero, at some point, since Duo was sure it was only due to his patient insistence that he had this room.

Dropping his bag on the bed, he crossed to the window. It was snowing again. Flipping his braid over his shoulder, he watched it falling; the slow descent of the flakes towards the ground. The shortened length of his hair had been the first thing Heero had noticed, one sculpted brow raising. In the five years since he'd shaved it, it had grown, now brushing the top of his ass. It was still too short.

Forehead resting against the freezing glass, he sighed again. It had been five years since he'd seen...anyone. He'd kept in contact with Heero, but work kept him busy, and he'd never been close to anyone else. Not really. Awake, watching the snow settle slowly on the ground, he could believe that. He could erase past sins, could erase the memories that had overwhelmed him, those first few months on L2.

Duo needed to sleep. It was a long flight from the colonies to Sanc, and he'd come straight from assignment. He couldn't remember the last full night of sleep he'd had. Stripping slowly, Duo made his way to the bathroom, unbraiding his hair. He was bruised and scratched, muscles tensed and aching. The spray of the shower made him wince, the head and pressure slowly loosening his body.

By the time he was out of the shower, Duo was already drowsing, eyes half shut. He yawned, padding silently towards the bed, stretching languidly.

"Most people at least put on a towel," Heero's wry voice made Duo jump, then frown. He crossed his arms over his chest, pouting slightly.

"Yeah? Well, most people knock," he stuck his tongue out at him, then grinned slightly as Heero laughed. His partner had loosened up after the war. Former partner. Heero stood, clapping Duo on the shoulder.

"Get some sleep," he smiled, voice soft. Duo nodded, yawning and climbing in to bed, pulling the covers around himself, smiling slightly as Heero left the room, door shutting behind him.

Dreams were the only place Duo really let himself remember, caught in the images of his past, of people he had left. People who had left him. His dreams were full of green eyes, the feeling of teeth on his neck, nails in his hair. The slick slide of bodies, the scent of sweat and leather. He hadn't been with anyone since Trowa, not really. Just a stream of one night stands, the desperate joining of flesh in dark clubs, industrial and bass pounding in to his skin.

Duo slept, losing himself to dreams.

***

"He did what?" Relena's voice was slightly raise, face shocked. Wufei and Quatre mirrored the expression, staring at Heero as he crossed the room, sitting heavily.

"He cut his hair. Not recently. But now it only brushes his ass, instead of hanging past it," Heero sighed, running a hand over his face. He had known before, when Duo had done it. Had stood next to him as he'd burned the braid, trying to erase his past.

And like everything else that had happened over the past five years, he'd been sworn to secrecy. He was only just telling them. Heero felt old and tired, watching his friends process the information.

"But...his hair..." Quatre sounded as lost as they all felt. Even Wufei had a hard time picturing Duo without his trademark braid. They all knew how important Duo's hair was to him.

Trowa closed his eyes, remembering the softness. The strands sliding through his fingers. Hair fisted tightly in his hand, Duo's mouth hot around his cock, tongue teasing over the head. Hands teasing over his ass, a finger pressed against him, working its way slowly inside. He opened his eyes to see Heero glaring at him, accusation and absolution in the same expression.

"It's just hair," Trowa shrugged. Stood. "Goodnight."

In the safety of his room, he slumped against the door, sliding to the floor. He wanted to scream. To break something. To shatter beneath the unforgiving hands of a thief. Trowa stood, growling, prowling to the bathroom, tearing his clothes from his body. He hadn't had that kind of release in five years.

Somewhere in the palace, Duo was in bed, hair down, skin warm and inviting. Vulnerable. Trowa turned the shower to cold and shivered.


	3. Chapter 3

Duo ate breakfast early, then made his way outside. He had missed the snow. Moving slowly towards the gazebo, he smiled. The cold air felt fresh on his face, snow drifting on to his hair. Relena was still bundled up in bed with her husband. Wufei would be in bed with Sally, probably sleeping. Quatre and Trowa would be----.

He stopped. Quatre and Trowa hadn't been together in four years. Heero had told him last night, on their drive home from the shuttle port. They'd talked about Wufei, too, Heero filling him in on five years worth of gossip. He didn't want his friends to be hurt by his ignorance. In the years he'd been gone, he hadn't wanted to know. Quatre would be in bed with his wife. Trowa would be alone.

Nose frozen, Duo climbed up the icy stairs of the gazebo, resting his elbows on the railing. He wanted to see his friends. Wanted to joke with Wufei about marrying Sally, with Quatre about the recent spike in the price of goggles. To call Relena "Princess" and tease her about Heero, about her swollen stomach. But after five years, he knew he couldn’t' pick up where he'd left off.

They were all so different than they had been five years ago.

 * * * 

Trowa made his way silently towards the gazebo, hands stuffed in to the pockets of his jeans. He'd watched Duo come out here, the familiar figure moving through the snow with the grace of an assassin. He wasn't sure what to expect, slipping in to the gazebo and leaning against the railing. Pulling a blunt out of his pocket, he lit it.

The smell of pot brought a sharp sting to Duo's eyes. He hadn't smoked since he'd left.

“Hey,” he kept his tone neutral. Trowa hadn't expected that, hadn't expected the coldness of his voice.

“Hey,” he took a slow drag, eyes closed, remembering the feeling of Duo's mouth on his, smoke passing between their lungs. Violet eyes were watching him, gazing over a well muscled shoulder.

“You gonna share that?” Duo watched as Trowa opened his eyes, the green dark. Nodding, his ex-lover held the blunt out. He took it carefully, making sure their fingers didn't touch. He inhaled, smoke burning down his throat and filling his lungs. Handing it back, Duo turned, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes cold.

“Thanks,” he exhaled. He hadn't though it would hurt so damn much. “Relena's due tomorrow. Think they'll induce?”

“It's too early,” Trowa watched him; the slight tremor to his hands, the way he was blinking. He could always tell when Duo felt trapped. When he wanted to run. He inhaled slowly, the memory of a mouth on his wrist sinking through his skin. “I missed you.”

“So did Heero. And Relena, and Wufei and Quatre,” Duo snorted, turning to look back over the snow, away from the mask of Trowa's face. He didn't want to be doing this. To be standing there, talking to Trowa about Quatre, about their friends. About nothing. “I was sorry to hear about you two.”

“He figured out his priorities. And I figured out mine,” Trowa didn't want to hear the bitterness in the braided man's voice. Didn't want to hear anything but pleasure coming out of his mouth, to see him with his head thrown back, arching to meet his thrusts.

“Yeah, well. It was bound to happen. At least you guys didn't have kids,” Duo gave him a crooked grin, moving to leave the gazebo.

Trowa's fingers were on his wrist. His hand was sliding in to his hair, lips pressing against his firmly. Duo's breath caught, tasting him for a moment. Then he tensed, shoving Trowa back, glaring and growling.

“Not interested. Sorry,” he growled, muscles tight under his skin. The other man raised his hands, stepping back slightly, face calm. He held the blunt out.

“I didn't want you to leave. Please stay,” Trowa watched him reach for the blunt, violet eyes dark and glaring. He watched the line of his jaw, the tightening of his throat as he inhaled. Duo exhaled, handing the blunt back, careful not to let their fingers touch. Trowa felt the cold begin to seep in to his bones. “I won't touch you, Duo. Not if you don’t want me to.”

Duo felt his body relax, watching warily as Trowa hopped up to sit on the railing, long legs reaching to the floor. He was still tall, still a slim line of hard muscle, hair falling in to his eyes. Duo looked away, trying not to swallow. Trying not to reach out, hold, touch, take. And then Trowa was talking, speaking soft Russian in to the winter air.

“Words are cheap. I can tell you I'm sorry, that I've changed, beg you to forgive me. But we both know it doesn't mean shit.” The Russian echoed in the gazebo.

“No, it doesn’t,” Duo pushed off the railing, eyes closed, listening to Trowa's voice, passionate, whispering Russian in to his ear while he fondled him, hand sliding feverishly over his cock.

“You loved me. I don’t make assumptions about how you feel now,” Russian was theirs. Quatre didn't know it. Neither did Wufei, and Heero didn't care one way or the other.

“I did. It was a mistake,” Duo's voice was tight, controlled. English. Trowa felt heavy, the dull ache of old bruises.

“No. It was the greatest gift I was ever given. And I was stupid for giving it u,” It was more Russian that Trowa had spoken in years. Duo laughed harshly.

“I meant for me,” He turned, looking at him. “I guess we both learned.”

“I guess,” Trowa stood, the English feeling stiff on his tongue. Duo snorted, leaning back against the railing, watching him take another hit. And then he was pinned, bodies a only just not touching, looking down at him with an expression knew, recognized: hunger. Slowly, Trowa bent, exhaling slowly against his lips, mouths barely apart.

“What do you want?” Duo growled, muscles poised for action, for violence, for movement against the body trapping him.

“I want my world back.” Trowa whispered in Russian, then pulled back, slipping the blunt between Duo's fingers. “But it's not mine to take.

“No, it's not,” Duo glared at him, eyes hard as metal, boring through him, ready to run.

“Don't run away. Heero needs you right now. Your godchild needs you,” Trowa slipped out of the gazebo, leaving Duo trembling, back pressed against the railing, blunt ashing between his fingers.

*** 

Heero watched as Duo entered the study, eyes scanning the room before he sat heavily. He'd stayed outside for over an hour after Trowa had come in. Silently, he slid the braided man ad hot cup of coffee. Duo's fingers curled around it, giving him a tired, grateful smile.

“Thanks, 'Ro,” he said, yawning.

“He asked about you. Every time we talked,” Heero kept all emotion out of his voice. With Duo, Trowa was a touchy subject. The tensing of his hands on the mug was the only outward sign that Duo was upset.

“So?” He wanted to sneer, to sound scathing, to sound anything but bitter or hopeful.

“He was a mess. After you left. Especially when he realized you weren't coming back,” Hero rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd watched both of them. Duo, in his self-imposed isolation, Trowa, realizing too late to follow his emotions.

“He got exactly what he wanted,” Duo knew he sounded bitter, this time, tongue curling under the flavor of his words. Heero's hand was on his shoulder, taking the cup from his grasp and setting it on the table. He looked up in time to see the first that caught him square in the jaw. Reeling, he put his hand out, clutching at Heero as he tried to regain his equilibrium.

“It's been five years, Duo. People make mistakes,” Heero spoke firmly, helping him sit down. “You ran away. You put up the walls. And now you're giving him Hell when he tries to pull them down.”

“He didn't want me. Doesn't want me,” Duo glared at him, then looked at the floor, chin aching. “He just wants an outlet.”

“Is that what you think?” His eyebrows raised in disbelief, Heero snorted. Duo's “I know” was almost silent as Heero opened the door. “Fine. Be miserable.”

The door slammed as Heero left. Duo flinched. Glared at the wood floor, hands clenching by his side. He knew exactly what their “relationship” had been: a way for them to vent their violence, to let their demons out to play.

And Duo had fallen in love, finally feeling like he'd found someone who matched him. Who could keep up, not just in bed, but everywhere. Who knew was it was like, growing up alone. On the streets. To have everyone you cared about ripped away. Duo had found an equal. Who was in love with someone else.

He'd hoped that the time, that the distance would lessen it, the hurt, the hunger, the way his body dragged towards Trowa even now, seeking the familiar warmth of his skin. That work, and the endless nights with faceless strangers would make him forget the way their bodies clung to each other, sweat trailing down their skin. He'd been wrong, and it hurt, to have something he couldn't have so close. 


	4. Chapter 4

They played rummy that night in Heero's office, all five of them around the table, drinking and laughing. Duo say between Heero and Wufei, eyes moving restlessly around the room. Trowa kept his eyes on the table. It was nothing knew. The others were watching, wondering what a five years' absence had done to braided pilot. 

“Preventers' stuff, mostly,” he had answered when they'd asked about it. It was mostly the truth, he did work for Preventers. He'd also been involved in mercenary work on L2. Gotten in on the arms trade, when he'd needed to make some extra cash. 

“No family? I thought you wanted that,” Wufei's head was cocked, black eyes penetrating. Duo shrugged. Have him a small, bitter smile. 

“I also wanted to keep 'Scythe. We all have to grow up sometime, Fei,” Duo dealt, thief’s hands flashing over the table, movements small a fast. The other pilots looked at each other, Quatre's face a thin line of worry. Duo seemed...old. Dried out. There was a hurt that clung to him, like a bruise on a peach. 

“That doesn't mean we give up on our dreams, Duo,” Quatre said, voice earnest. Duo shot him a look. The blonde really had no idea. Spaceheart may have shown him how he felt, but it didn't give him any of the details. Shrugging, he picked up his hand.

“I was 16, Quat. People change,” he took a sip of his whiskey, avoiding Trowa's eyes. A murmur of assent went around the table, and the subject was dropped. They went back to playing cards.

And now Duo was stumbling down the hall to his room, alone in the dark, fingers wrapped tightly around a whiskey bottle. He'd continued drinking after the card game, bantering with Wufei. Trowa had left. Heero and Quatre had played chess, and then they had left as well, taking the Chinese man with them, leaving Duo's sarcasm thick in the room.

***

Falling against a door, he growled, clutching the bottle. Resting his hand against the wood, Duo pushed himself off, standing shakily. He'd only managed a few unsteady steps when the door opened, green eyes peering out at him in the darkness.

“Duo?” his was soft, coated in sleep. Duo froze, then turned, looking closely at him.

“Trowa,” he brought the bottle to his lips, taking a drink. Thin fingers wrapped around his wrist, and he growled, jerking away, stumbling. He couldn't–Trowa's touch sent ice over his skin in sharp prickles. It made his chest hurt.

“How much have you had?” Soft Russian, teasing in to his ears, a hand on his wrist again. 

“Enough,” Duo frowned as he answered. the language unfamiliar. He tried against, in English. “I'm fine,” 

“Lying doesn't suit you,” Trowa kept his voice, the Russian, soft. “Let me help you.”

Duo growled, eying him warily, then gave a grunt of consent. Trowa picked him up easily, holding him tightly against his chest, breathing in the scent of whiskey and sweat. Closing his eyes, he remembered the way their bodies moved together, drunk on sex and liquor. Gently, he set Duo on his bed, pulling away slowly.

“I'll get you some water. And Advil,” turning, he walked in to the bathroom, leaving Duo on the bed, watching him with bruised eyes. He finished the bottle, letting it slip through his fingers to the floor. Curling slightly, he inhaled. The bed smelled like Trowa, the scent moving over his skin. Staining him.

“Here,” Trowa handed him the pills and water, and Duo took them without question, overwhelmed by the memories of taste and smell: the sharp scent of Trowa, aroused, writhing underneath him, legs tight around his waist, chest arching under his tongue. He finished the water, handing him the glass, then turned away, curling, shirt riding up in the back. Trowa's eyes ran slowly over the skin, longing to follow the path with his mouth.

“I don't need you to take care of me,” Duo growled, rolling on his back to glare up at him.

“You can hate me again in the morning,” he was leaning in, their mouths so close he could taste the whiskey on Duo's breath. The braided man made a small, desperate noise, like a mouse caught by a snake, then growled. He tensed, unaware that he had relaxed.

“I'm fine. Let me go,” Duo's voice was low and husky, and it went straight to Trowa's cock, and he moved, pinning his former lover, lips ghosting together. Duo was frozen, then whimpering.

“Don't. You said we had to stop. I stopped,” He sounded weak violet eyes dark and wide. Trowa dragged his tongue lazily over his bottom lip.

“I know. And now, I'm begging you not to,” he said it in Russian, mouth caressing the words. Duo's hand came up, resting on his arm. Tightened. Then they were kissing, tongues moving together, Duo moaning in to his mouth. He swallowed it, offering a moan of his own, hands sliding in to Duo's shirt. Duo was pressing in to his hands; Duo was moaning his name, hands clutching his hair as he slid his mouth down his neck, then bit. 

“Trowa!” Duo cried out, baring his neck as he felt teeth pierce his skin. His blood was burning, months and years of want finally, _finally_ being released. Duo flipped them, yanking down Trowa's pants and swallowing his cock, sucking hard. The heat of Duo's mouth made him cry out, arching against the bed, he's lovers touch frenzied on his thighs. That talented, familiar tongue was stroking his cock, lapping the head, teasing over the slit, and then he was back in Duo's throat, the muscles around him tightening. Trowa came hard, his name on his lips, hands tight in his hair. 

Duo swallowed hungrily, moaning. Panting, he resting his face on Trowa's thigh, hands stroking his skin, eyes closed. The hands on his braid gave a sharp tug, and he was shakily moving up, arms coming tight around him. He was warm, and safe, and Trowa was smoothing back his bangs, lips against his forehead. Duo shuddered, smiled and passed out, resting on Trowa's chest. 

Trowa paused, hands stilling on Duo's back, looking down at him. He was draped over his chest, eyes closed, still except for the rise and fall of his chest. With a small half-smile, Trowa ran his hand down the length of Duo's braid. It was soft, and thick, and he remembered the thrill he'd had every time he'd pulled the band out, watching with bedroom eyes as his lover had shaken the mass out, hair falling down around his chest and shoulders like a veil. Duo was asleep.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Trowa brushed his hair away from his face, gently easing Duo down on to the bed, shifting on to his side. In his sleep, Duo frowned, pressing closer to him. Smiling slightly, he leaned in, kissing him. The sleeping man smiled, rubbing his cheek against his arm. Protectively curling around him, Trowa pulled him close. He was so cold now. His eyes so hard. It was different from the Duo he remembered. There was a wall he could no longer breach. And it was there because of him. Trowa sighed, lips brushing over his cheek. “I'm so sorry, love. I'll make it up to you.”

He slept, curled around his lover, hands wrapped in his shirt and braid. 


	5. Chapter 5

Duo groaned. His head was pounding, mouth dry. His stomach was rolling. He felt warm. Safe. Cracking open an eye, he froze. He was in bed with someone else. There was a hand on his braid, a body curled tightly around his own. Warm breath on the back of his neck. Duo began to pull away, and the arm around his waist tightened. The body behind his stirred, the arm sliding away. A few minutes later, he was looking in to green eyes, a glass of water and advil being pushed in to his hands.

Taking them warily, Duo swallowed both, handing the glass back to Trowa. He closed his eyes, running through the hazy memories of last night. There were no aches. No scratches, no bite marks littering his skin. So they hadn't had sex. He had a dim memory of a mouth on his, of fingers on his skin. But he'd been drunk. It might have been a dream.

"How are you feeling?" Trowa's voice settled over him like cement. There was a cool cloth bathing his face, gently hands smoothing back his hair. Duo snarled, sitting up, shoving Trowa away. He winced immediately, hands flying up to hold his head.

"Shitty," he growled, sliding off of the bed, moving shakily to his feet. Trowa reached for him, wanting to push him back to bed, to sooth, and he growled, giving him a warning look. Trowa held his hands up, stepping back.

"You'll make yourself sick. I can leave," he kept his voice low, his hands up. Duo's jaw clenched. He growled, moving towards the door.

"No. It's my turn to leave. You've already done it," it sounded bitter and he knew it. He went to open the door. Trowa's hand closed suddenly on his wrist, voice growling in to his ear.

"Still running, Shinigami?" The pupils of his eyes were huge, expression feral. All of it was beautiful and familiar. The soft accent on his name made his knees weaken, and Duo was growling, yanking his arm back, moving away from the hot breath on his neck.

"Stop it, Nanashi. I won't be prey for you anymore," Duo pulled the door open, stepping in to the hall. The words threw themselves at Trowa's skin. He felt wrung out.

"You were never prey," he whispered, knowing by the slight tremor to Duo's hands as he slammed the door that he had heard. Trowa closed his eyes, shaking slightly. He moved through the room, muscles like wood under his skin. He had no idea how to explain. How to show Duo how wrong he was. He dressed quickly, face drawn. He needed to talk to Heero.

* * *

Heero and Relena were eating a quiet breakfast in their suite when Trowa tapped on the door. He was ushered in, and sat at the table, Relena making a plate for him despite his protests. She gave him a warm smile when he accused her of mothering, hand smoothing over her stomach.

"Just practicing," she teased, eyes twinkling.

"Be grateful you haven't been here the whole pregnancy," Heero rolled his eyes, snagging a piece of fruit from his plate. "She uses that excuse for everything."

Trowa laughed with them, watching the looks of affection they traded. Their love was infectious, inclusive, making him feel like he, too, was loved, was part of their happiness. Relena smiled brightly at him, eyes warm.

"You're up early, Trowa. Here to impart some secret circus wisdom that will help induce labor?" She was teasing, and Trowa grinned slightly, then looked at Heero.

"What happened to Duo?" His eyes were intent, watching the man closely. Heero didn't blink.

"It's been five years. I'm sure a lot of things have happened," there was no accusation in his voice, but Trowa flinched, looking at the table. Relena frowned, hand stilling on her stomach.

"Something is off, Heero. He's been so excited about the baby, especially about being a godfather. But since he's arrived, he's been..." Relena trailed off. It didn't need to be said. Duo had been an ass. All three of them knew it. Trowa took a deep breath.

"He said...he thinks he was prey," Trowa's voice was low and wounded. Relena and Heero looked at each other, and then sighed.

"I know. He said. Yesterday, he said you were just looking for an outlet. Was he wrong?" The tone of Heero's voice was harsh on the last sentence. He knew only what Duo had told him, Trowa knew, and he knew how that looked.

"It..." Trowa ran a hand over his hair, clenching his jaw. "That's how it started. It was an outlet, after the war. We both...Shinigami and Nanashi are parts of us, now. We can't-couldn't-just turn it off," There was an understanding in Heero's eyes. After the war, they'd all battled their demons. Trowa's were part of him, and he'd learned how to use that part of himself. So had Duo.

"We. The first time, we'd been drinking. And smoking. I felt...Quatre locked his darkness away. And he didn't understand, anyway. What it was like, growing up fighting to survive. After the war, he wanted to forget about it. To be a good person, in his own eyes, and in society's," Trowa sighed. "He wanted to be normal."

"You didn't?" Heero was looking shrewdly at him, head tilted.

"I tried. But that night...I was upset. I felt trapped. I vented to Duo about it, all of it, and he...understood. He. We used each other. It was only supposed to be once, but it," Trowa cringed. "After, it was so...everything with Quatre was so tame, so mechanical. I loved him, but with Duo. I wasn't trapped, with Duo. It was wild, and unfettered, and I started to understand that I couldn't hide Nanashi."

Heero was watching him closely, lips pursed, Relena silent at his side. Trowa was sure she'd heard everything already.

"Why didn't you leave Quatre?" It was sharp, digging in to Trowa's ears.

"I loved him. I thought we could make it work. That it would be enough," Trowa took a deep breath. "When Duo started asking-telling me to leave him, I knew what it meant. I knew how he felt. It...He was never prey. Nanashi would never have let prey fuck him. But by the time I realized...Duo was gone."

"Why did you stop going?" It was the first thing Relena had said since he'd started talking.

"I didn't want to hurt him. I was destroying myself, slowly, and making him watch...that was asking too much," Trowa looked down. He'd been blind. Relena stood, kissing Heero's cheek and heading to the bathroom.

"You were right, dear. They're both idiots," She waved, then shut the door, the sound of water running silenced. Heero gave him an appraising look, then sighed.

"I didn't help. He asked me not to say anything, and I didn't," Heero sighed again, then stood, stretching. I don't know if I can help. But you're both miserable. This has gone on too long. What do you want to know?"

"Everything. What he's been doing, why he'd so bitter, why he can't–He won't even talk to me," Trowa whispered, curling slightly. It hurt. They had been so close. Duo had told him everything. And now he knew nothing about him.

"It wasn't any one thing. He went after you, at fist. To the penthouse. Quatre was there. He overheard," Heero frowned, thinking, "Quatre knew. Duo overheard him telling someone that you were just using him. That eventually, you'd get sick of him, and that you'd move on. And if not...Quatre left it open."Trowa's mind was racing. Quatre had known. He felt sick to his stomach.

"Duo assumed the worse. That Quatre had always known. He felt betrayed by both of you. That was the night he shaved his hair," Heero glared at him slightly. It sounded...Trowa groaned. It sounded awful. Like Quatre had always been involved, encouraging him to use Duo, and like he'd have no problem taking Duo out of the picture, despite their friendship. Heero continued.

In the end, Trowa was trembling. Heero had confronted Quatre, who had followed Trowa one night, sensing something was wrong. Quatre had been prepared to confront him, even to leave him, and then Duo was gone, and Trowa went back to "normal." Trowa winced, listening as Heero described the people Duo had been with since then, who had used him. The work with Preventers, living on L2, the mercenary group where Nanashi's appetite was well-remembered. The missions, bad and good, the brush with addiction. And Trowa had been gone for all of it.

"I should have gone after him. Damn it. Why L2?" Trowa stood, growling. He hadn't wanted to hurt Duo by chasing him. But he knew how much Duo hated L2. The memories it brought up. Heero's hand was on his chest, pushing him back in to his chair.

"Yes. You should have. What are you going to do?" Heero was glaring slightly, armed crossed over his chest.

"I'm going to punch him, first, and then-" Trowa broke off as the door opened. Duo froze, hand on the doorknob, looking surprised.

"Oh. Hi. Heero, do-" Duo flinched as Trowa stood, glaring.

"Shut up. We need to talk," he was walking towards him, hands clenched, resolute. And then Relena was screaming, and all three of them were rushing to the bathroom, hearts hammering wildly in their chests.


	6. Chapter 6

They'd been at the hospital for five hours. Duo paced the waiting room, hands clasped behind his back, freezing every time the door opened, face hopeful. Sally was with Relena, and so was Heero, so the others sat, watching him. No one knew what was going on. Only that Relena's water had broken, but that there had been something wrong. She'd fallen, and landed wrong, and there had been blood. 

Trowa stood, finally, taking Duo's hand and leading him to a chair, pressing him firmly down. Duo looked up at him, face white and drawn with worry. Clapping him on the shoulder, he sat next to him, reaching for his hand. Duo let him take it, linking their fingers and squeezing tightly. Quatre and Wufei were talking quietly in the corner, faces pinched and pale. 

“What's taking so long?” Duo's voice was loud and harsh in the waiting room. Trowa squeezed his hand tighter. 

“It will take as long as it takes,” he said, voice soft. The man beside him looked lost, wasn't arguing. It was a statement of how much he had changed. Trowa could remember a time when Duo would have grinned, then waited, sneaking in to the room to find out what was going on. He would have kept them all updated. Frowning slightly, he surveyed the room. Quatre and Wufei were ignoring them, wrapped up in their own conversation.

“Come on,” he whispered, tugging Duo's hand. Duo stood, confused, following him to the doors. They were locked, the button to open them on the wall on the inside. Trowa bent, lips moving against Duo's ear. 

“Can you get it open?” it was voiceless, his breath sending a wave of heat over Duo's skin. Shivering, he eyed the door, then nodded, hands going automatically to the tools hidden in his hair. Trowa smiled slightly, then stood, eyes moving over the hallway, keeping watch. 

Duo made a soft noise of triumph, the ghost of a grin flickering over his face as he grabbed Trowa, pulling him through the doors before they shut. They moved together through the hall, swift and silent, eyes darting over the doors. There was a fork, and they nodded to each other, separating, eyes darting over the walls, searching for Heero and Relena. And then Trowa whistled, white and shaking, and Duo ran to him, pulse racing. HE looked in to the room, flinching and reaching for Trowa's hand. It was already curling around his, their fingers clinging together. 

Everyone was moving, darting from one place to another. Duo hated hospitals, their sterile smell and blank walls. This room smelled of blood and panic. Heero was clutching his wife's hand while she screamed, covered in sweat, hair sticking to her face. There was too much blood, and Sally's face was pinched with worry. 

Trowa's hand was tight on his, tugging him away, down the hall, in to an empty room. Trowa's arms were wrapping around him, and Duo smelled safety, warmth, drowning out the fear and blood. Resting his head on the strong chest in front of him, Duo took a shuddering breath. 

“Did you see–“ He couldn't finish the sentence, voice breaking. Dead. The baby was dead, tiny body grey and cold, lying on a table while the doctors rushed around, shouting. Trowa was whispering soothingly against his ear, stroking his back, then picking him up. He moved, lying back on the bed, holding Duo on his chest, hand stroking down his braid. Duo let him, clinging.

“I saw. Sally will take care of It. Relena will be fine,” Trowa used Russian, eyes closed, inhaling Duo's set, face pressed against his hair. Slowly, the body against his calmed, the fingers in his shirt loosening. One of his hands slid, moving away, and Trowa caught it, pulling it to his mouth and kissing the fingertips. 

“Trowa. Please don't,” it was soft, an entreaty; a request. He tightened his grip on Duo's hand, other arm encircling his waist. He kissed the top of his head, lips smoothing over his hair* 

“Tell me. Tell me what I have to do, Duo, to show you that you're not prey. Not to me,” Trowa's voice broke slightly, a soft hiccup that slide through Duo's ears, tugging at him. He say up, looking at him, eyes darkening slightly. He gave a slight growl.

“ _You_ left _me_. _You_ got sick of _me. You_ are the one who ended things, Nanashi,” he was growling, Shinigami brought to the surface by the tension. Trowa leaned in, rubbing their cheeks together, chest rumbling as he allowed himself to relax, to release the part of himself he kept so tightly controlled. He licked Duo's cheek, once.

“I did. I was wrong,” he nuzzled Duo, ignoring the warning growl, tugging him closer. “I should never have left you.” 

Shinigami moved fast when angry, and Nanashi found himself pinned to the bed before he had time to finish, angry violet eyes glaring at him, pupils wide. He was panting, growling softly, and Nanashi tilted his head back. Bared his neck. Shinigami's eyes widened, then narrowed. He nosed the exposed skin, inhaling, mouth dragging over his pulse. The faint hint of teeth made Nanashi moan, head tilting back farther. 

“I've fucked you before, Nanashi. This isn't new,” he growled, tonguing the skin. He slid off, heading for the door. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, teeth tugging his ear. He could feel Nanashi's hard cock against his ass, through their jeans. He turned his face, growling.

And then they heard a triumphant shout, and a baby crying, and they were rushing from the room, bursting in to the other. Sally was holding a kick, screaming baby grinning, Relena pating back against the bed. Heero's eyes were shocked, surprised, eyes glued to the form in Sally's arms. Duo darted forward, hugging Heero tightly, clapping him on the back. Trowa watched, smiling, moving to stroke the back of Relena's hand. She gave him a wan smile, held her arms out, taking her child and holding it tightly against her chest. 


	7. Chapter 7

It was late. Duo waked through the halls of the palace slowly, head down, hands shoved in to the pocket of his jeans, lost in thought. After the initial excitement over his godchild, Duo had deflated, his own thoughts swallowing him. Frowning, Duo opened the door to his room, shutting it firmly behind himself. 

“We need to talk,” Trowa's voice caused his head to snap up, and Duo swallowed. The man was stretched out on his bed, smoking a joint, sweatpants low on his hips. He frowned deeper.

“Why are you in my room?” Duo glared.

“Because this palace has piss poor locks,” Trowa exhaled slowly, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Duo felt his face move in to a grin, then frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Trowa sat the joint in the ashtray, standing. 

“I'm not letting you leave again,” he watched Duo closely, eyes running over him. The thrill of tension in his muscles made his breath catch.

“You don't really have much of a choice,” Duo growled, moving towards the bathroom. He was tired, too tired to defend himself tonight. To keep his walls up against the man he stilled loved.

“So,” Trowa's voice was casual, offhand, as he moved slowly towards him. “How many people have told you about my appetite? That I do nothing but use people? 

“Enough,” Duo growled, starting slightly, turning to face him. “Enough that I know better than to trust you, now.” 

“They were prey. All of them,” he pinned him to the door of the bathroom, green eyes dark. 

“I know,” Duo growled out, glaring up at him.

“You are not prey,” Trowa trailed his thumb over Duo's lower lip, leaning in and switching to Russian. “And you can fight me, love, but I will you follow until you take me back.” 

“Why do you keep doing this?” Duo closed his eyes, trying to keep from tensing. Trying to keep from snaking his tongue out to taste his thumb. “Do you like being told no?”

“No. But you're worth it,” Trowa whispered it, leaning in. Duo growled, twisting out from beneath him, moving away. 

“Don't lie to me. You had your chance,” Duo was angry and hopeful, hands tight in his own shirt. Trowa growled, darting forward and pinning him to the bedpost. 

“Then give me another one.”

“Why? So you can hurt me again?” Duo snorted. “No, thanks.” 

“So I can make you feel alive again. Warm again,” Trowa lowered his voice, the Russian sliding softly off his tongue. Duo froze, face going white, eyes widening. 

“Shut up,” he breathed. 

“No,” Trowa leaned in, resting their foreheads together. “Please, Duo.” 

Duo's breath caught, eyes closing. Trowa's fingers stroked over his wrist, voice echoing the please. He shook his head, biting his lips.

“Please,” Trowa's lips moved over his face, kissing his skin softly. Duo took a deep, shuddering breath, making a small noise. Trowa seemed so sincere. Duo wanted to believe him, to believe in the lips caressing his cheek. To give in to the slight nibble on his lower lip. Body tense, Duo parted his lips, inhaling Trowa's scent. There were hands stroking his wrists, a tongue rubbing his lower lip, and Duo slid his tongue out to meet it, making another noise. 

Slipping an arm around his waist, Trowa teased their tongues together, and then Duo was pressing tightly against him, arms going around his neck. Duo was pressing their mouths together, drawing Trowa's tongue in to his mouth and sucking softly. Moaning, he stroked his lower back, other hand threading in to the base of his braid. Duo turned them, pushing Trowa against the bed, and he was lying down, pulling Duo down on top of him, kissing him. 

Duo straddled him, clutching his hair and nipping his lower lip, thrilling at the answering moan. Trowa's hands were trailing down his spine, his teeth nipping back, and he panted, grinding down against him, dragging his mouth over his jaw, sucking. Trowa tilted his head back, groaning, rolling his hips up to meet his lover's, sliding his hands up the back of his shirt. Hands stroking down his neck, thumbing Trowa's nipples, Duo bit down softly. Arching his neck, he moaned, tugging at his shirt, green eyes dark. Duo bit him again, hands stilling.

“You're serious?” his lips were moving against his neck. Trowa reached up, cupping his chin, tilting his face and whispering “Yes” against his lips in Russian. Duo rolled them, wrapping a leg around his hip and bucking up, breaking the kiss to pull off the long sleeved teeshirt. Catching his hands, Trowa kissed along the faint scars and faded track marks, licking the crease of his elbows. Duo moaned and arched up against him, free hand sliding down his stomach, teasing over the waistband of his pants, chest pressing in to his mouth. 

“If you ever leave me again, I'll rip your throat out with my teeth,” Duo growled out, then moaned as Trowa tugged a nipple with his teeth, letting out a low rumble of laughter as he slid his hand in to Duo's pants. 

“Never again, my Shinigami,” Trowa purred, lapping at his nipple and stroking him teasingly. Bucking in to his hand, he fisted Trowa's hair tightly, hand fumbling with the bedside table. Drawing out a small tube of lube, he kicked his pants off, grabbing Trowa's hand, lubing his fingers and guiding it between his legs

Duo's violet eyes were dark, watching him through his eyelashes. He was arching to meet his thrusts, crying out and throwing his head back, legs around his waist, nails digging in to his shoulder. Trowa had his teeth tight in his lover's neck, twisting his hips as he slammed in to him, growling and moaning and lapping the blood from the mark. Arching his body up to press against him, Duo leaned, biting his collarbone, growling and piercing the skin, tightening around Trowa as he pulled out, making his lover shout. 

Afterward, they nosed each others' skin, lapping each other clean, rumbling and purring, rubbing against each other in a tangle of sweaty limbs. Duo's hair was down, sticking to their skin and draping over them, Trowa's hand stroking through it. There were sore, bodies covered in scratches and bite marks. Trowa's ass was red, and Duo had a black eye, bruises littered over their skin, both of them satisfied and drowsy. 

“So what now?” Shinigami's voice was near silent in the room, fingers tracing a bloodied bite mark on Trowa's chest. The body under his purred softly, stirring in the pale shadow of dawn light seeping through the window.

“We could fuck again,” Nanashi suggested, grinning wide as his mate turned his head, glaring, eyes dark, anger kindling. Shinigami's face softened as he leaned in, biting his shoulder harshly and drawing blood. Pressing in to his lover's mouth, Nanashi moaned, then chuckled, nails teasing down his back. Shinigami licked the blood from his lips, then nuzzling his chin, sighing slightly.

“I go with you. Or you go with me. But I meant what I said about not leaving you again,” his voice was hoarse from screaming, shouting his pleasure to fill the room, but Nanashi knew it needed to be said. Knew he needed to sooth the wild thing curled on his chest before they went any further. Shinigami surveyed him, head tilted, eyes narrowed.

“With the Mercenary group?” 

“Yes. You could be my right hand,” Nanashi watched him carefully, noting the frown and reaching out, soothing the lines on Shinigami's cheek with his thumb. “My right hand and my partner.” 

He considered it, leaning in to the familiar hand on his cheek. Preventers was, well. It wasn't where he was happy. It was something that let him run, but it was still a cage. Being a mercenary with Nanashi would let him run free with his mate...assuming they didn't kill each other. Purring softly, Shinigami nodded, and curling tightly around each other, they slept, Duo's head tucked under Trowa's chin, his hands tight in his hair.


	8. Epilogue

Duo threw his head back, moaning and moving his hips faster, rolling his body as he rode Trowa's cock, hands on his shoulders. His lover's lips whispered over his neck and shoulders, sucking and gently nipping his skin. Fingers slid through his hair, teasing down his back, and he cried out, arching as Trowa thrust hard in to him, smirking against his neck.

“God, I love you,” Trowa growled, tugging on his ear with his teeth, drinking in the sounds his lover made as he moved over his cock, trailing his fingers down his chest and rolling his nipple, other hand stroking his cock, timing it with their thrusts. Letting out a breathless laugh, Duo arched in to his touch, moaning and crying out, thighs tensing, leaning forward to tease his teeth over his lover's pulse, biting down gently and drawing out a scream as Trowa came, pressing in to his mouth and slamming hard in to him, pulling Duo over the edge.

Panting, Duo ran his hands up Trowa's arms, cupping his cheeks and leaning in, kissing him, hips stilling. Long fingers slid in to his hair, tugging slightly, then fisting it, moaning softly in to his mouth. Their rested their foreheads together, stroking each others' skin and sharing breath, smiling. 

It had been a long year. The had fought and fucked, made up, made love, and slept, folded in each others' arms, purring softly in the night, chests rumbling. Cheeks pressed together. They played, chasing each other through their apartment, pouncing and biting, bodies clinging and moving together, laughter and growls turning to moans and shouts as they rode each other. There are been a lot to talk about, the first few months, and Trowa was sometimes amazed that they had made it at all.

Sliding off of Trowa's cock, Duo nipped his chest, resting against it, arms around his neck, stroking his hair. Nosing his hair, Trowa inhaled deeply, letting his mate's sent wash over him, pupils dilating slightly, cock stirring. Against his chest, Duo snorted, biting him softly and looking up at him.

“We have a meeting with those French mercenaries from L1 in an hour,” he smirked, grinding against Trowa slightly, watching his breath catch. 

“I guess you'd better hurry,” Trowa fell back against the bed, grinning and sliding his hands down to grope Duo's ass. He growled, biting Trowa's collarbone and shifting between his legs, pulling them over his shoulders and sliding a slick finger in to him. 

“Oh no. Your turn,” Duo growled, looking smug as Trowa moaned, hips arching.

“So fuck me already,” he gasped out, arching in to the mouth on his neck as Duo's cock thrust slowly in to him. 

“Love you,” Duo moaned, moving hard against him and tangling their fingers together, bodies working towards completion in tandem. 


End file.
